Understanding
by silverfoxpunk
Summary: Jimmy is racked with guilt over how he's treated Thomas, so when Thomas offers him an olive branch, he jumps at the opportunity to take it. They promise to be friends, but when Thomas suddenly gives him the cold-shoulder, he can't understand why and determines to get to the bottom of it. Post Xmas special. Slash. M for adult content in later chapters. Reviews welcome & appreciated.
1. The Truth

Chapter One

The Truth

As Jimmy handed back the newspaper, he asked Thomas if he needed anything. The under butler shook his head no, smiling as though it didn't hurt to do so. It was obvious this was the happiest he'd been in weeks. To see that made Jimmy crumble a little inside.

'I should let you rest.' He said. They made their farewells and Jimmy walked out of the room, trying not to play that final grateful smile over and over in his head. A man should not have to be beaten to a pulp before someone did the kindness of spending one whole hour without insulting him.

If he'd trusted his instincts long ago instead of listening to O'Brien... Just the act of telling Thomas he would be friends with him had released the knots of tension that'd been building in his stomach since this whole sorry episode started. He'd been wrong about this. All wrong.

He felt regret burn through him. He knew he'd got there in the end and done the right thing, but he'd had to be shamed into first and that was what made him feel so bad.

When he got back to his room, Alfred wanted to regale him with all the day's gossip, but he made it clear he was exhausted, hungover, and wanted nothing more than to shut his eyes. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

* * *

To everyone's surprise, Thomas got up the next day and struggled downstairs, but his Lordship insisted that until his ribs were fully mended, he was to have bed rest. After an hour or two, Thomas crept back down to the kitchen and insisted he be made useful. Mrs Patmore came to the rescue, and found him a 'dry goods labeling' job to do that mostly required him to sit by the range and keep them both awash in cups of tea.

It was not until after luncheon before Jimmy finally got to see him. He was shocked when he did so, as the whole left side of Thomas's face had swollen up like a bruised peach. As Jimmy's eyes travelled over his wounds, Thomas caught and held his gaze, raising his chin as he did so. He tried a smile, though Jimmy found it too distressing to give much of a smile back.

* * *

A couple of weeks passed without event. Thomas was back at work, though on reduced duties. Whenever he met Jimmy in some hallway or another, he was polite but strangely standoffish. It was as though their night of easy laughter after the fair had never happened. He made Jimmy doubt that their friendship was repaired after all.

Thomas spent a lot of his free time alone. Whatever fight he and O'Brien had clearly had caused them to circle around each other like prize fighters mid-bought. And now he no longer was in her confidence, he seemed to have no-one.

On his breaks Thomas stood beneath the eaves of the house and smoked. A couple of times Jimmy tried to start a conversation with him, but Thomas would make a polite excuse and go back into the house. At first the footman thought nothing of it - after all a butler's duties were seemingly never ending - but then after a while he began to see a pattern. It only happened with him.

'O'Brien says that young Miss Sybil cries any time Lady Grantham goes into the room!' Jimmy said one day, walking up behind Thomas and taking him by surprise.

The under butler turned to face him. 'Aye, well that doesn't surprise me. I'd cry too if I had to look up at that face!' He smiled, but then seemed to think better of it. His foot hurriedly stubbed out the cigarette, and he tried to leave.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jimmy grabbed the older man's arm.

Thomas looked at him in shock, so Jimmy unhanded him.

'I'm sorry, it's just that, well, you've only just lit that.' He said, indicating the stubbed out cigarette.

'I can't stand around gossiping all day, I've things to do.'

'Are you avoiding me?' Jimmy asked bluntly.

Thomas didn't reply. His grey-blue eyes looked away, but when they looked back, Jimmy could see how troubled he was.

The footman frowned. 'Why?' He asked, his face open. 'I thought we said we would be friends? And I'm trying, I really am.'

'I know you are. That's the problem.' Thomas said quietly.

He looked awkward and made to walk around him, but Jimmy took a step sideways and blocked his path.

'I meant what I said. You don't have to be afraid I'll change my mind. We can be friends.'

Thomas looked embarrassed, 'I want to be friends with you, I do,' he swallowed hard, 'but I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry.'

Thomas bundled past him, and Jimmy let him go.

The footman felt utterly lost. Isn't being friends what Thomas had asked for? What he'd wanted? He shook his head, utterly confused.

* * *

Alfred looked into the dregs of his pint, 'D'ya want another?'

'Better not. We've got to get back, or Carson will send a search party.'

'It's my day off. Yours too!'

'I know, but you know what he's like if you're late back.'

Alfred shrugged. 'I don't care. I'm having another.' He strode to the bar, before coming back with only a half. Jimmy smiled, before the smile slid from his face. He turned his empty glass.

'What's wrong with you?' Alfred said as he sat down. 'You've 'ad a face like a wet weekend all afternoon.'

Jimmy shrugged.

'Come on, tell me. You've been off key all week. What's up?' Alfred stared at him and when there was no reply, he rolled his eyes. 'Oh God, don't tell me it's this thing with Mr Barrow.'

'How d'you know?' Jimmy said feeling like some guilty secret had been revealed.

'I sleep in the same room as you don't I? You haven't slept right since that night at the fair. And you'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice the fact that he's avoiding you.'

'Why do you think he does it? I told him we could be friends. I said so, didn't I? Why won't he believe me?'

'He's in love with you, you fool. Don't you know that? 'ere, give me your empty and I'll take it to the bar.'

When there was no response, Alfred got up and removed the empty glasses. When he got back he sat down slowly. The colour had entirely gone from Jimmy's cheeks.

'Don't tell me you didn't realise?' Alfred said, somewhat shocked that this appeared to be news to his fellow footman. 'No, you couldn't possibly not know. _Everyone_ knows.'

'What d'you mean 'everyone knows'? I didn't! Why didn't you tell me?'

'Course he is, you fool. Why'd you think he let seven bells get knocked out of him?'

'Well, I know he he...' Jimmy looked down at his hands on the rough wooden table in front of him, '_liked_ me. But I never thought it were anything serious.'

'What you going to do now?'

The panic was back in Jimmy's face, 'What d'you mean, 'do'?'

'Are you going to tell him you know?'

'No. I'll do nothing. Say nothing. And neither will you if you know what's good for you.'

Alfred held his hands up. 'Don't shoot the messenger.'

There was a pause before Jimmy fell head first onto the table. 'Oh, Jesus.' He mumbled.

'No good asking him. I don't think he approves of this kind of thing.'

'Shut up, Alfred.'

* * *

They got back to the house just before midnight. Thomas was busy attending the men of the house, who seemed to be lingering over their after-supper conversation.

Jimmy paced the hall outside the footmen's lockers like a man possessed.

'Everything alright, James?' Came a familiarly gruff voice.

'Yes, Mister Carson.'

'Well, don't hang around here wearing a hole in the rug, head upstairs if you've nowhere else to be.'

'Yes, Mister Carson. Goodnight sir.'

'Goodnight, James.'

Once in his room, he took off his jacket and hat, and kicked off his shoes - grateful he was alone for once. Alfred had permission to move to a different room as one of the grooms was away at Tattershall buying breeding stock, freeing up a bed for a week.

Jimmy was grateful for the peace. He needed time to think.

He lay back on his bed in his shirt and braces and looked at the crack in the ceiling where that leak had sprung last winter.

Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, nor anyone he ever knew. It was one thing knowing that another man had - well - lustful feelings for him, it was another altogether if those feelings were... romantic.

Even thinking the word felt strange. 'Romantic' feelings from another man. Who'd have thought it?

He didn't for a minute doubt its truth. Alfred merely put a name to what he now realised he'd known all along. Thomas couldn't be friends with him, because despite himself - despite that one night where they had tried - he wanted more.

Jimmy turned over onto his side. He wished he had someone to talk to about it. Alfred was all well and good, but he was just a kid - and this was man's business. He wanted someone he could trust; someone who wouldn't blab a load of old tosh all 'round the house. Better, someone who wasn't connected to the house at all...

And suddenly it hit him. Emily.

He had to go home.


	2. Emily

Chapter 2

Emily

Emily laughed that laugh that always made him smile. It was without restraint and left her gasping. Usually when she was like this, he'd forget what he'd said that started it in the first place, and soon they were both breathless, sides aching.

Now though, she punched his arm. 'Get away with you. I don't believe you.'

'She did, it's true!'

Emily eyed him suspiciously. 'Swear on our brother's grave.'

'Emily!'

'Swear it.'

'Alright, I swear on Arthur's grave.'

'Well, in which case, I've no choice but to believe you. Although I'm sure no _real_ Lady would do such a thing.'

He chuckled. She loved his stories of the 'big house', and he saved them up for her like precious gems. Now they fell into comfortable silence, keeping pace beside each other like the old days - Emily walking along the top of the low, dry-stone wall, arms held out for balance just like she did when she was five. Eventually she jumped down and sat on the ground, crossing her legs in front of her.

'Let's sit for a while.'

'No, let's get to Shepherd's Brook before the rain comes.'

'It's not going to rain. You've been in Yorkshire too long. You've forgotten how to read Lancashire weather. Besides, I want to rest.'

'That's because you're lazy.'

'Must take after you then...' She plucked a long grass from the wall and began to de-seed it. 'You're a man who _says_ he spends all day working hard for Lord and Lady muck, but who probably sits around making eyes at all the pretty house maids.'

'Oh aye.'

'Aye, and making them fall in love with you!' She grabbed her heart and fell backwards dramatically as though in a romance novel.

He chewed his lip. He may never get a moment like this again.

'Aye well, your big brother's not only got _women_ admirers -'

She laughed, thinking he was joking, but when she saw the look on his face the laugh died on her lips. She looked at him with sharp eyes that missed nothing. 'You what?'

He walked a couple of steps towards the promintory and looked out over the moors.

'Who is he? What's he called? Oh my God, I can't believe you've waited all weekend to tell me this!'

'I'm not proud of it!' He said sullenly, then added firmly. 'It just _is_.'

She raised an eyebrow. '_Is_ what exactly?'

When he said nothing, she scrambled to her feet and went to stand beside him. Now he'd involved her, he knew she would tackle it head on like she did all things.

They'd always shared their problems, even when they fought like cat and dog. Back in their school days he didn't speak to her for six weeks after some imagined slight or another. Then one day he saw her crying in the playground. He'd asked her friend why she sobbed, and when he was told that a boy had called her names, he'd marched right up to the lad and popped him in the nose. Em looked up at him, covered in the boy's blood, and they'd gone right back to hating each other. That's how it was with them. Always had been.

She seemed to realise that he wasn't in the mood to joke about this, despite his initially flippant comment. She changed her tone, and looked at him with concern. 'Seriously, what's happened? Talk to me.'

'I don't know. That's the problem.' He slumped down onto the ground and hugged his knees loosely, watching the clouds gather beneath them in the valley.

'Who is it?'

'It doesn't matter who. It's just someone I work with. He's - he's more senior than me.'

She sat down next to him and mimicked his sitting position, only in a more ladylike way.

'Crikey. There's a turnout for the books. You better not let father hear anything about this. He won't understand.'

'Do I look daft?'

'How do you know this man likes you? Has he said something?'

'I _know,_ okay? Let's just leave it at that.'

'Well, you obviously came here to tell me this, and now you clam up tight.'

'I came here to see mum and dad!'

'Did you now? And what's suddenly brought that on, after not seeing them for the other fifty three weeks of the year?'

'That's not true. I came home at Easter.'

'And now it's October.' She nudged him gently. 'Talk to me. What's happened?'

He looked at her then set his eyes firmly on the horizon. 'He tried to kiss me,' he blurted out, 'and when I said no, he lost his job. He got his job back, eventually, but I kept my distance. Then we all went to the fair, for a day out like, and I won some money. Some men tried to rob me, as I'd had a bit to drink, and well, he stepped in. He got hurt, for me. And when I went to thank him, he asked for us to be friends.'

'And?'

'I said yes, but I told him I couldn't give him nowt else.'

'Go on.'

'Well, then he stopped talking to me. I couldn't understand why, after I'd said we could be friends. So I challenged him. Still he wouldn't say. So I asked Alfred, and he said it was because this man was in love with me.'

He went quiet for a moment and glanced at her to gauge her reaction, but if she felt something she was doing a good job of keeping it to herself.

'Now I don't know what to do,' he continued, 'because it was alright when it was the one thing - I'd reconciled myself to that - but not this other.'

She nodded and picked at the grass she'd stripped bare of seeds, leaving only a zig-zag skeleton in her fingers.

'I think if someone loves you, then you should be grateful for it. No matter who it is.'

She sounded so sad that he looked fully at her.

'You think I always dreamed of staying at home with ma and pa, cooking and cleaning and fetching his slippers at the end of the day? No! I wanted a life of my own, but nobody would 'ave me. So here I am, a school teacher until I die, and as fanciable as this weed.'

She dangled the limp strip of grass in her hand in front of his face.

'Don't be soft.'

'I'm not. I'm only saying because I think you have to take love where you can find it.' She swallowed. 'If I'd found someone who loved me I'd have cherished that, whoever it was. It takes guts to fall in love.'

He shrugged.

'Look, you may never be able to give him what he wants, but you can tell him you're okay with how he feels and really mean it. Be kind to him. I expect it's lonely being him.'

That's why he'd sought her counsel. Emily was the wisest person he knew. Always had been. She saw right to the heart of things without even trying.

'Do you think it's against God?' He said in a stilted way, looking at his feet.

'You mean a man loving another man?'

He nodded curtly.

'I don't think we should presume to know His ways.' She said. 'I think He loves all His children, and this man is one of His children too. He knows what's in our hearts, so if this man is good, he'll know that too.' She traced a heart in the dirt with her stalk of grass. 'Tell me about him. What's he like? Is he a kind man?'

He snorted. 'Not exactly. Well, not to all anyhow. But sometimes he surprises you. He's been raised up recently and seems the better for it somehow; hard work suits him. And he's sharp too, quick witted. Sometimes he tells wicked jokes, and gets into trouble for them often as not. He's clever with words. You know.'

'Is he handsome?'

Jimmy reacted angrily. He got to his feet and strode away. 'How would I know? I don't notice such things.'

'Oh come on now. Don't be coy. Why stop when you've gone this far already? He is good looking?' She pressed.

Jimmy found a pebble and tossed it as far into the horizon as he could, then got another. Emily got up and tidied up her attire and looked at him.

'I s'pose women say so. Silly women, like you.'

'Tall or short?'

'Somewhere in between.'

'Dark or fair?'

'Dark I suppose. What does it matter?'

'I just want to get a picture of this man who has fallen in love with my brother and got him all tangled up inside.'

He snapped around to face her, the stone he was ready to toss frozen in his hand. 'Why'd you say that? About me being tangled up inside?'

'Well, you wouldn't get this way if you weren't. You'd've done just like you've always done with all those girls in the past - called him a silly moo, and ignored him. Simple as that. I've never seen you like this.'

He blew the air out his cheeks. 'You don't know what you're talking about. You're a silly, naive girl, and I don't want to hear another word on the subject'. He arced the stone through the air, then immediately sought out another.

She smiled. 'What are you scared of? God? I think he's got more important things to do than worry about your love life.'

'That's blasphemy.'

'Is it heck.'

He waggled his finger at her. 'I'm warning you.'

'Or what? You'll beat me? You haven't been able to best me in a fight since we were ten years old. You came here to see if I'd be shocked, and I'm not. I'm not shocked because I think it's brave. If this man's seen even a tenth of what I know is in you, and he's fallen for you, then I know he's a good man. That's enough for me, and I think it should be enough for you too.'

She lifted her skirts and began to march on towards their destination. Jimmy remained dumbstruck for a while then ran after her, catching her up and spinning her around to face him.

'It's not natural. It's not right.'

'If you have all the answers, what are you here for?'

She pushed past him and carried on. He caught her up again and kept pace beside her. They walked in silence for a while, until he muttered sourly, 'I _can_ take you in a fight. You cheat.'


	3. Midnight

Chapter 3

Midnight

Going back to Downton it felt like a weight had been lifted. Even though Jimmy's bones were being jolted this way and that in the postmaster's old waggonette, he whistled. He didn't know what he would do, he just knew he wasn't scared any more. No more sleepless nights.

Walking back into the kitchen he'd got a welcoming reception, but was disappointed to find Thomas not there. Apparently he'd been sent to London to collect an order of stationary samples for Lady Grantham, who would not entrust the task to strangers.

'When will he be back?' He'd asked Alfred as the footman settled in his bed for the night.

'Tomorrow. He called to say he'd be on the early mail train so as not to miss luncheon.'

* * *

In bed that night, sleep evaded Jimmy one final time. Eventually there was nothing else to do but admit defeat. He got up and dressed quietly so as not to disturb his gently snoring roommate.

He left the house quietly, turned up the collar of his coat against the cold and trusted the moon to light his way to the station.

* * *

The mail train was late by fifteen minutes. It was not yet dawn when it arrived in a cloud of white steam that breached the darkness.

When Thomas stepped off the train, he was one of only four passengers to do so. The box of stationary samples hung by its string from his good hand. As the swirling steam cleared, he looked up from beneath the brim of his hat and was confused to find Jimmy in his path.

'Jimmy. What are you doing here?'

'I've come because we need to talk. There's nowt around for two miles in either direction, so I know I'll have your full attention.'

The soft orange glow from the electric bulbs on the station flickered and highlighted an almost hopeful look in Thomas's eyes.

'Let me take that for you.' Jimmy said taking the package from Thomas's hand before the man could argue. It was a footman's duty after all.

They began to walk together in silence. 'I can get a car if you like.' Jimmy said.

'No, I'm happy walking.' Thomas said, grateful that the lights were behind them so Jimmy couldn't see the blush in his cheeks. 'What is it that you want to talk about?'

'You know what.' Jimmy said, petulant all of a sudden. 'Why didn't you tell me? Why did you have to let me find out from someone else?'

'I don't know what you -'

'You love me, don't you?' Jimmy interrupted. Thomas stopped still, and Jimmy stopped beside him. 'It's alright, I'm not angry, I just need to hear it from your own mouth so I know it's true.'

'I don't know what to say...'

'Tell me the truth. I can't bear guesswork, and I'm not one for surprises neither.' Jimmy looked flustered, his cheeks colouring, but he lifted his chin and looked Thomas straight in the eye.

'I didn't mean to...' Thomas began, the shadow of his hat hiding his eyes. 'It crept up slowly until I couldn't feel anything else. That night, after the fair, we had such a laugh together, and it was so easy. And then when you left all I knew is that I wanted you to stay, and... and well... It's why I can't be around you. It's not fair to you, or me.' He slowly raised his head and his eyes met Jimmy's for the first time.

'Are you sure it's not just some ...crush?' Jimmy cringed at his choice of word, but there didn't seem to be anything better.

Thomas sighed, 'If you're going to mock me, you needn't bother. I'll go on now and I'll give my notice in the morning. You need never see me again.' He began to stride on, but Jimmy called out to him.

'Mr Barrow, wait! I'm not mocking you!' The formality seemed to be ridiculous given the situation, but old habits died hard.

He walked over to the under butler, who was stood frozen in the middle of the road, and came up behind him - the string of the stationary package cutting into his hands. He wanted to say the right words, make everything right again, but he just seemed to dig himself in deeper. How could he explain?

'I wanted to be sure, because that thing you did for me - that night - it wasn't just brave, it was gallant. Like in the old story books or something. No-one has ever done anything like that for me before. I didn't know what to make of it. It made me see you differently. That you're a good man, and a good friend...' he petered out.

'I only want you to think good of me. You've so many reasons to see ill.'

Thomas became quiet, and Jimmy looked at the white skin contrasting with the dark hair beneath the brim of the hat. 'Why'd you look at me that way you do?' He blurted out.

'Because I want to kiss you so bad, it hurts.' Thomas replied, then immediately felt shame for the honesty of his answer. His head drooped, exposing more of his pale skin to the moonlight.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then the beginnings of rain, the kind that drenches you slowly like a mist descending.

'Go on then. If that's what you feel.' Jimmy said stiffly.

Slowly Thomas turned and looked at him. He shook his head slowly. 'Don't be cruel to me, Jimmy. I can't take that from you. Anyone but you-'

Jimmy put the package down onto the ground and squared his feet, straightening his back. 'I'm serious. Go on with it, if you want to.'

Thomas looked baffled, but then took two sudden steps towards him, noting the breath caught in Jimmy's lungs as the gap between them closed.

Jimmy could see the confusion and uncertainty in Thomas's eyes. He'd hesitated, unwilling to do something that would get him hurt worse than the beating.

'I think...' Jimmy said, 'I think I'd like it if you were to kiss me, Mr Barrow. Not any another man mind, just you. I think, I'd like to be kissed by you - Thomas.'

Thomas couldn't help himself, he smiled at the absurdity of it all. 'Once I've kissed you,' he said, 'I'll have ruined you for other men anyhow!'

And with that, the tension broke, and Jimmy began to laugh. Thomas smiled too, and then he leaned in carefully and pressed his lips gently against the footman's, until finally he could feel Jimmy relax into it. Then he slowly put his arms around the footman and their chests pressed together.

They stood in the drizzle, sharing the brim of one hat, until Jimmy pulled away, breathless and blushing. A lock of his blonde hair fell across his face.

'I-I didn't know it could be like that with a man.'

Thomas smiled, 'Like what?'

'...soft, like.'

Thomas lowered his eyes as he gave a wry grin, but it soon fell away as he said, 'Listen, if you want to pretend none of this ever happened, I'll understand. It won't be easy, but I'll understand.'

'No.' Jimmy said firmly. 'I wouldn't do that to you. Like I said, I've thought things through. I'd like to spend more time with you, so you don't have to be on your own so much.'

A frown darkened Thomas's face. 'Is that what this is? Pity?' He scooped up the package. 'I should have known. I don't need your pity, Jimmy.' He strode away so quick that the footman was forced to jog to keep up.

'No! I don't pity you, I just don't want you to be on your own, because I like you. Okay? I like you.' Jimmy said again. He put his hand on the butler's arm and turned him to face him. They both came to a standstill. 'A bit more than I probably should, okay?' Thomas turned to face him, 'Look, I don't know much about anything I suppose, but I know this - I like you, and I like how what we just did made me feel.' Jimmy floundered for words, still terribly embarrassed. He took a deep breath and started again. 'I don't think you want to hurt me and I know I don't want to hurt you - so why don't we start learning to trust each other? I don't give monkey's uncle what anyone else thinks. What I care about, is you.'

The soft rain stuck to their skin like dew. Jimmy was breathing heavily and in the cool air, you could see his breath. Thomas stepped towards him, placed his gloved hands on Jimmy's face and then kissed him again with all the vigour of one who was desperately in love.


	4. Kexby Part 1

Chapter 4 Pt 1

Kexby

Lady Grantham had not been pleased to find her samples ruined by rain. Thomas had paid for it by losing his day off, so it would be almost ten days before either of them found a moment together with no-one else around.

Thomas was getting ready for supper, when he realised he'd left his cufflinks in his room. He bounded back up the servant's staircase, when he met Jimmy coming the other way, an armload of blankets in his hands.

'It's my day off tomorrow. I was thinking I might go to that new pub in Kexby, I've heard it's got it's own brewery. You know, somewhere different for a change. Might make a night of it and come back in the morning.' He flicked his cool blue eyes up to the blondes' face, but Jimmy looked past him down the stairs and would not meet his eye.

'I could join you, if you like.' He said.

'I would.'

Jimmy nodded once, then carried on down the stairs, dashing down them like the flames of hell followed at his heels. Thomas grinned widely, and walked back to his room with a spring in his step.

* * *

The atmosphere in the pub was convivial, and the night passed in a blur of easy laughter, and talk about family, work and home. It was strange being here together without any of the others. Jimmy realised that they'd never really talked for more than mere moments without interruption. He felt that in these few hours, he'd peeled back some of the layers of a man he thought he knew.

By the time the bell rang for last orders, Jimmy yawned for the third time. Thomas suggested it was time they both retired to the rooms he'd hired above the pub. Jimmy seemed momentarily full of anxiety. Thomas gave him that wry smile he loved to tease him with. '_Separate_ rooms.' He said reassuringly.

They got up the stairs on unsteady legs, laughing and shooshing each other in case they woke other residents, but when they found their floor, they realised all the other rooms were unoccupied.

'Better than sharing with Alfred!' Jimmy said, laughing through a hiccup. 'You take the bathroom first.'

'Alright.'

Jimmy went to his room. He waited for about ten minutes, then took his towel, carbolic soap and toothbrush and walked over to the bathroom. The door was ajar, so he entered assuming it was free and was startled to find Thomas, mid-shave, turned towards him.

Thomas was stripped to the waist, his trouser braces resting on his hips, a cut-throat razor paused in mid-air. His body was well defined, a scattering of hairs knotting in the centre of his chest and his face spattered with white shaving lather. Jimmy blushed when Thomas caught his eye. Thomas turned to the mirror and took a couple of long upward strokes to his chin with the sharp blade. 'Don't mind me, I'll be done in a moment. I've always shaved before bed. Habit I suppose.'

'Gives you longer to lie-in in the morning.' Jimmy added for want of something to say, then realised that could be taken to mean something altogether different.

Thomas flicked his eyes up to meet his in the mirror, and he gave him a wicked smile.

'Aye, I suppose you could say that.'

Thomas splashed his face clean and rinsed the residue from the sink. He buried his face in a hand towel as he walked towards the door where Jimmy was standing. He made to step through it and Jimmy backed up, they passed with only a hairs breadth between them.

'All yours.' Thomas tossed nonchalantly over his shoulder. Jimmy closed his eyes and remembered to breathe.

* * *

It was just coming up to midnight when Jimmy sat on his bed and cradled his head in his hands. He'd begun to sober up, which meant his hangover (gained by copious pints of Randy Badger or whatever it was called), began to rage. He wished he'd remembered to pack aspirin, and for a fleeting moment, considered asking Thomas if he had any.

Tonight had not been what he'd expected. When they'd left on the train to get here, he'd had nervous jitters in his belly the whole way, wondering what would happen. If he was honest, he'd expected a repeat of the morning they spent together in the rain. Or at least some version of the same. He didn't know if that thought delighted or terrified him.

But Thomas had proved remarkably unpushy. For a man used to getting his own way, he seemed relaxed about whatever relationship they were developing. And Jimmy couldn't figure out if that was something that pleased or annoyed him.

The confusion did nothing to help his head. He lay back on the creaking bed and shifted so the bed springs did not dig into his back. The Inn may have been new, but the mattresses were certainly not. He wondered if Thomas fared any better in his.

Suddenly he sat up, and swung his legs back over the edge of the bed until his bare feet lay flat on the cool floorboards.

He had a picture in his head of Thomas. In bed. Smelling of fresh soap and shaving cream. Stripped to the waist with his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling and smiling that wry smile of his as if he knew something that nobody else did.

Oh sweet Lord.

Jimmy ran his hand over his face. He was shaking, and it had nothing to do with the booze.

He got up and walked to the door, resting his hand on the brass doorknob and his forehead on the door.

_Don't do this. It's madness._

He flung the door open and marched into the corridor. When he reached Thomas's door he stopped outside, frozen with indecision.

_No. He couldn't do this. He would turn around and go back, he'd -_

The door swung open and he found Thomas, no more or less dressed than he had been before.

'Come in.' Thomas said quietly.

Jimmy did as he was bid and paced into the centre of the room. Thomas looked either way down the corridor before shutting the door behind him. Jimmy ran a shaking hand through his hair.

'I didn't know whether to come -'

'I could see that.'

'I don't know what I'm doing here.'

'The door's unlocked. You can leave any time you like.'

Jimmy paced firmly back to the door, but when his hand reached it, he froze. He hung his head low. 'I don't want to go.'

Thomas slowly moved away from the wall, and came up behind him, gently running the backs of his fingers over the nape of Jimmy's neck. Jimmy dodged away, shrugging Thomas off as he backed into the room.

'Don't do that.'

'If you don't want me to touch you, I won't. You can touch me, if that's what you want.'

'No! I don't want that.' Jimmy said, getting increasingly agitated.

'What _do_ you want, Jimmy? Why _are_ you here?'

Thomas met him in the centre of his small room with its sloping roof and tiny skylight.

'I-I don't know. I just wanted to be here. I just want...'

Thomas slowly tried to take him in his arms, but once again Jimmy shrugged him off.

'I'm not like that! I'm not one of your fancy men.'

Thomas snorted a laugh, then went and sat down on the bed. He was on the verge of losing his temper. 'How many men do you think there've been, Jimmy? Ten? Twenty? As many men as you've had women?'

Jimmy looked at him sullenly. He shrugged.

'There've been four. The first, a lad I went to school with. It was fumbling and obsessive. When his father found out, he beat him so hard he never walked right. The second was a publican. He took me into his cellar and when his wife caught us, he told her I'd attacked him. Then he sent in his friends to teach me a lesson. Oh, I can see from your face that you thought you were the only reason I'd taken a hiding, and I hate to disappoint you, but you were just the latest in a long line.' Thomas looked at his hands, almost shuddering from the memory. Then his head snapped up, 'Oh, and then there was a girl. Tragic, eh? It was a bloody disaster. When her father told me I'd have to marry her, I ran for the hills. The third man was a market trader. He said I made him happy, but he prayed to God every day to be free of his 'dirty affliction'.'

Jimmy was quiet, cowed by the story. Finally he asked, 'And the forth?'

Thomas snorted. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'

'Try me.'

'Fine. The Duke of Crowborough.'

'Bloody 'ell. 'im that stayed with us?'

'Is there another? He promised to make me his valet, take me with him round the world, but here I am. I'm always wrong. Wrong. Wrong.'

They stayed like that in silence. A lick of Thomas's black hair slipped from it's place. It looked so incongruous on a man who prided himself on his grooming.

'I'd always assumed you'd have had experience -' Jimmy began, before spluttering to silence. That didn't come out right. Why did words always fail him?

'Oh I have experience alright, just none of it good.'

Jimmy walked over and he put a hand on Thomas's shoulder, he could feel the tension beneath his fingertips. 'I'm sorry if I upset you, or if I say things wrong. I don't mean to hurt you, but I keep doing it.'

'You know I'll always forgive you.' Thomas said looking up at him with clear slate-grey eyes.

He covered Jimmy's hand with his own and the footman could feel the raised bullet wound scar graze against his skin. He flicked his eyes down to the injured hand, taking it in his own and examining it.

'Does it hurt?'

'It's the only scar I have that doesn't.'

Jimmy let their fingers drop, turned and walked away, pacing the room like a caged tiger. He felt guilty and afraid, but also knew that nothing good ever came from acting out of fear. When he'd trusted his instincts before, he'd always done the right thing.

The creak of a bedspring told him that Thomas had gotten up. Jimmy turned around to face him, and soon they were right before each other. They were a similar height; the younger man slightly taller than the older, but able to look him in the eyes.

'I never wanted to be what I am,' Thomas said, 'but it's the way I'm made. And if you're not the same, I get it, I do. I'd never force you to be something you're not. I've tried that, and God knows I'd wish that on no-one.' He reached out and touched Jimmy's cheek. 'But I want you to know, Jimmy Kent, that I love you. I'd do anything for you, because even just thinking about you tears my heart wide open.'

He began to lower his hand, but Jimmy caught it with his own, and brought it to his chest, resting Thomas's fingers on the rough linen of his shirt. Both their hands were shaking.

'I want to try, Thomas. To be who you want me to be.' He lowered his eyes then raised them again. 'Show me how.'


	5. Kexby Part 2

Chapter 4 Pt 2

Kexby

Thomas looked at him, his eyes full of hopeful expectation. 'You don't mean that.'

Jimmy nodded, placed the hand he was holding carefully onto his own hip then stepped towards Thomas. 'I do.'

He took a beat, then stepped in to kiss the butler. As soon as their lips met, Thomas groaned with pleasure. He curved into Jimmy's body and their angled planes slid together as their lips engaged.

Finally Thomas pulled back and whispered. 'Just relax.'

'I'm all fingers and thumbs, I don't know what I'm doing!' Jimmy admitted.

Thomas took his jaw softly in his scarred hand. 'Don't think. Just be with me. Do whatever feels good.'

Thomas's hand began to rub the small of Jimmy's back, and Jimmy's need for him grew. They kissed again. This time deeper, their tongues battling and sliding over one another.

Perhaps it was the feel of Thomas's naked chest pressed against him, or the depth of emotion behind his kiss, but Jimmy suddenly felt able to let go. He stopped over-thinking and tapped into the deep erotic pleasure that Thomas aroused in him.

Thomas's lips slid to Jimmy's throat and he kissed and nuzzled at him lightly. One hand holding Jimmy's neck whilst the other gripped his buttocks - pulling him firmly against his own body.

'Don't stop.' Jimmy pleaded, shocked to hear the depth of his own lustful need.

Thomas's hands moved to Jimmy's shirt, slipped off the braces and began to open the tiny white shirt buttons. When he was done he began to pull it open, and as soon as he did, Jimmy began taking it off and pushing Thomas backwards towards the bed. Soon his trousers and pants were tossed to the floor too, freeing his erection with a bounce.

Thomas grinned as he fall back on the bed, his hands reaching up to pull at Jimmy's taut behind, pulling him against him.

Jimmy groaned as Thomas's fingers dug into his backside. Jimmy 'retaliated' by slipping his hand into the fabric of Thomas's pants, feeling for his stiff cock, taking it into his hand and beginning, tentatively, to pump it.

Thomas's head fell back onto the pillow 'Oh Lord,' he said, 'keep that up and I'll not last long.'

'Is this alright?'

'What do you think!'

Jimmy became fascinated with watching Thomas's face. The man was in ecstasy. As Jimmy's hand worked, Thomas's body moved beneath him curving deep into the mattress or arching away from it, pleasure written on his face and in every muscle. His eyes would flutter closed tight then spring open, full of satisfaction. Jimmy increased his speed and suddenly Thomas's hand was over his own, pushing him away.

'Stop, or I'll come!'

'I want you to come! I want to _watch_ you come.' Jimmy corrected with a smile. Thomas relaxed, and Jimmy re-doubled his efforts, moving his hand in steady, strong beat that drove the man beneath him to distraction.

'I-I'm coming!' Thomas warned, gripping the sheets, arching his back and arcing a jet of hot come over Jimmy's hand and his own leg.

Jimmy examined the liquid pearls on his hand, then looked to Thomas who was lying spent. The air smelled heavily of lust and perspiration. Jimmy was painfully hard himself.

Thomas seemed to have gotten his breath back. He leaned over the bed and felt for his trouser pockets, finding a handkerchief and cleaning himself up enough to extracate himself, walk over to his earthenware jug, pour out a bowl of water and wash. Jimmy stole a look at Thomas's naked body, stroking himself with his come covered hand. He'd never really looked at another man naked before, well not like this. Thomas had strong thighs, a creamy white behind that led to a long back and defined shoulders. With the exception of his hand, the war had left him relatively scar free. He had a good body, toned and strong from the work that he did. He took care of himself.

'That was the best it's ever been.' Thomas was saying, though Jimmy was barely listening, his right hand so busy in what it was engaged in. 'Do you want a towel?' Thomas asked him, then when he received no reply he turned to face Jimmy. He smiled when he saw what he was doing.

He walked towards him. 'Come 'ere. Let me do that.' He said.

* * *

Jimmy had never felt anything like it. He choked back the cry that wanted to tear from his throat, terrified it would bring someone running. Thomas's lips moved eagerly up and down his shaft and his hand gripped at his length. His fingers dug into Thomas's shoulder blades.

'Oh sweet Jesus!' Jimmy gasped. He hurriedly put his hand in Thomas's slick black hair and eased him away.

'What's wrong?' Thomas asked, wiping his hand across his lips.

'Nothing. Everything. I don't know. I don't want to - well you know - in your mouth. It'd be wrong.'

Thomas smiled. 'I don't mind!' He said, then got back to it, but Jimmy withdrew again.

'No. Stop. I don't want that for you.'

Thomas shrugged and got up off his knees. He moved to sit next to Jimmy on the bed, the hairs of their arms and legs intermingling.

'What _do_ you want then?'

'I know it sounds daft, but I want to lie with you.'

Thomas looked down at his knees.

'What, have I said something wrong?'

'No, quite the opposite.' When he looked up, Jimmy could see that Thomas was smilling like he had an ace in his hand. He leaned in and kissed him gently. 'Do you know how many times I dreamed of this? You and I lying together.'

Jimmy gave an uncertain smile, not sure he was entirely comfortable with that. But Thomas moved up the bed and jammed himself close to the wall, pulling the coarse sheet and blanket to one side. Jimmy lay down next to him, allowing Thomas to pull the covers over them both. They began to kiss again, until they were both as aroused as they had been only moments before.

Jimmy found himself firmly gripping Thomas's buttocks, he loved the feel of them in the palm of his hands. Thomas suddenly, turned over to face the wall. He breathed a satisfied sigh and rubbed his cheeks onto Jimmy's erection, sliding up and down, tugging Jimmy's foreskin and making them both wet with cum.

Jimmy couldn't stand the teasing any more. He put a firm hand on Thomas's shoulder and turned him face down onto the bed, climbing on top of him and moving between his legs, which Thomas allowed willingly - raising his lush, pale ass off the bed and presenting it to Jimmy. When Jimmy made that first push, they both cried out. Jimmy froze, until he realised Thomas cried out with pleasure and was now swearing into the pillow, his hands knotting the sheets beneath him as he waited. 'Deeper!' he begged.

Jimmy began moving, slowly at first - easing himself into Thomas's soft, giving walls. He then slid further and faster until he was fucking him hard. His hands pressing deep into the mattress taking his weight, as his hips thrust hard against that perfect white ass.

Soon he was coming. His eyes rolled back and his whole body buzzed with the feeling that flowed through him. He seemed to come for ages. Thomas rose to meet him as he shuddered again and again, until finally they both collapsed. Jimmy felt like jelly. His arms were no longer able to take his weight. He rested on the curve of Thomas's back.

Thomas waited for him to extricate himself, then wriggled awkwardly out from under him.

'I'm sorry.'

'What on earth for?'

'I don't know!' said Jimmy. And they both began to laugh at how ridiculous everything was. Jimmy dragged himself onto the pillow so he could face Thomas, who rested on one elbow.

'Are you okay?' Thomas asked him warily. Jimmy knew what he meant.

'I'm fine. I wanted this. Wanted you.' He corrected. 'I didn't expect it to be, well, so intense.'

'It was good, the best I've had.'

Jimmy blushed, 'Aye, well, I was quite taken away with your charms...' he joked.

'Will you stay with me, till morning?'

'Where else would I go?' Jimmy said gently, then he smiled and reached out and pulled Thomas into his arms. And they lay like that, covered in each other's sweat and juices until sleep took them both.

* * *

In the morning Thomas woke first. He was cramped from having to share a single bed, but he didn't care a jot. He got up carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping footman, and flung a towel around his waist so he could scamper barefoot to the bathroom.

When he came back, he found Jimmy lying on one arm facing him, wide awake.

'Come back to bed.'

'No. You stink like a farm hand.'

'If I do, it's your fault.' Jimmy grinned. 'Come back to bed.' He patted the mattress.

Thomas dropped his towel, and Jimmy delighted in the fact that the man was already half erect just thinking about being back in bed with him.

'You're easy. I wish some girls I'd known were as easy as you.' He grinned, that same cheeky grin Thomas used to dream about. They snuggled down next to each other.

'It's bloody freezing in here.' Jimmy complained.

'Well, I'll have to see what I can do to warm you up.'

Thomas pulled the sheets over them both and they said their good mornings in the best way possible.

* * *

They were late back to Downton. Their train had 'broken down', which meant they turned up after breakfast service and got into trouble with Mr Carson. He had strong words with them in his study. Mrs Hughes did her best to comfort them by saying she thought they looked tired, reasoning that they must have had a terrible journey home.

They shared a smile, but nothing more. They never flirted or fraternised, and only when seven days later they both got an afternoon off, did they finally get to be with each other. And when they did, Jimmy realised (as he tore off Thomas's clothes), that it was a great thing to be loved.

He wrote as much to his sister, and she smiled as she read the words.

_Emily, you were right about love. I'll never be the same again._


End file.
